Where No One Goes
by RyoshiMorino
Summary: Hiccup, the village screw up. What if some took a little pity on him and taught him how to stand just a little taller than he did. Taught him how to defend himself. Fed his curiosity. And helped him grow with the heart of a chief and the soul of a dragon. (Contains HTTTD#1, Riders of Berk, Defenders of Berk, and HTTYD#2)
1. Pologue

_**Here we go again. I've gone and had a spark of insanity -_- bear with me please...or just imagine me getting gnawed on by a Nadder...on second thought just bear with me :p**_

_**Prologue: Eastern Viking** _

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><p>"Oi, Hiccup!" Snotlout yelled jeeringly as he slammed his fist into his palm, "Where ya goin'?" The boy he was yelling at, Hiccup, was, for lack of better terms, a runt compared to the bigger boy that towered above the ten-year-old. Snotlout, like many of the male children in the village, was large for his age. Hiccup was...well, a hiccup. A child born small, matured small, and stayed small.<p>

To the vikings, this was a sign of weakness. It was only the love of the boy's mother that had saved him, and his father's love for both, though he hardly showed that love. And he was the son of the chief. Which meant that some day, that very runt would lead them all...but that did little to stop his larger cousin from tormenting him at every bloody turn of the day!

"Um...home," Hiccup answered timidly, making Snotlout laugh.

"Oh, no you're not," Snotlout reached out and grabbed his shoulder to spin him around and lift him off the ground, "Not until you've had you're - "

"Tha's enough out o' ye, Lout!" A sharp whistling sound came just before a loud, painful crack landed across the top of Snotlout's helmet, setting the boy's ears to ringing like the warning bells on the watchtowers. Hiccup was dropped to the ground as his cousin grabbed his helmet with a yelp of pain. He whirled on his attacker, and froze. Standing behind him was the one man in the village that most were afraid to anger.

Like many of them, he had broad shoulders, but was less built than the average viking. He would have been yet another Hiccup had it not been for his height. His skin was bronze, his hair black as ebony and tied in a long tight braid that ran well down his back, and his eyes were the shape of almost with two black orbs staring down at him: Rowin Iron-Staff.

"Uh..."

"Ye 'ave not'in else to say?" Rowin asked with a raised brow, "Did ye no' just try to beat yer cousin bloody?"

Snotlout backed away, "Well...ya see..."

"I see plenty enough!" Rowin roared, "Ge' out o' 'ere!" He swung his staff at the ruffian and sent him scurrying off yelling for his father. Rowin harrumphed at the boy's retreat and looked down at the smaller boy, "Are ye alright, Hiccup?"

Hiccup picked himself up, looking depressed, "He would have left me alone...after a minute or two."

"Ack, lad you need to learn ta stand up for yerself," the man sighed, and picked him up by his collar, "Come along, I'll patch ye up. Looks like ye've 'ad to deal with this a lot."

It was true, Hiccup was covered in cuts and bruises from the week because Snotlout, while most of the men, and Hiccup's father was away, loved to throw his weight around. He even bullied Fishlegs, a boy much bigger than him, and got away with it because he was far too timid to stand up for himself against Snotlout. Yet he was a boy who, like Hiccup, was bright and clever. He was also fascinated by dragons.

"That won't do anything except get me killed," Hiccup argued, struggling in the man's grasp, only to be lifted higher and sat on his shoulder. "It's better for me to just keep my head down."

"A fair bit o' advice...when ye be in a dragon raid." Rowin chuckled, "But no' when some young half-troll like that lout back there is trying to make ye look like a fool."

"I can't fight him," Hiccup mumbled from his perch, "Dad won't say it, but I know he wants Snotlout for the next chief, not me." The boy mumbled, "And he's right, what good would I do?"

"Stop that," Rowin bounced him from his shoulder, nearly knocking him off, "Listen, lad, ev'ry one the villagers 'as his or her own talents. Ye 'ave your's and I 'ave me own."

"Like not fighting with anything but that staff?"

"Mother called it a bo," Rowin said, hefting the weapon, a simple walking stick to anyone else, but a weapon as deadly as a sword to Rowin, "Where she came from, this was one of many strange weapons. She taught me when I was yer age, an' even me father was pleased. Me bein' such a wee thing at the time." Rowin said as they neared his house on the edge of the village. From the roof of the house came yet another oddity from the man. A small, red and orange blob detached itself from the roof and glided down lazily to land on Rowin's opposite shoulder from Hiccup, squawking and purring up a storm at her master's return.

"Easy ye little nose drip," he chuckled to the Terrible Terror, "Goin' ta rub the skin right off me neck if yer no' carfeul." Yes, the man had well and truly tamed the smallest of the vikings' sworn enemy. The one dragon in the village that no one feared because Rowin had cared for the little creature from the time he was a boy, and the two had been together for a good forty years.

Rowin then kicked the door open and lumbered inside, plopping Hiccup down at the table while he moved around to gather the needed herbs and cloth for cleaning his wounds. "Now, lad, as I was sayin', ye need to stand up to that snot-nosed mama's boy. He won' stop until the day one o' ye becomes chief, and gods help us all if it 'appens to be 'im!"

"He'd be better than me," Hiccup sighed as the little dragon lifted off Rowin's shoulder and glided to the table in front of the boy, sidling up to him for attention like a cat would. Hiccup reached up and scratched her behind the horns, earning a few purrs of appreciation. Rowin smiled at this. Hiccup was the only other person his little Terror liked out of the whole village. Anyone else she ignored.

Rowin came back to the table with an arm full of pots he kept his ointments in. "Aye, I'm sure he'd make a fine, pig-headed, lout of a chief." He dipped his fingers into one of the jars and applied a green paste to one of Hiccups many cuts on his face, "Look here, lad, ye're a clever lad, cleverer than that Fishlegs bloke, and ye have an eye for the forge. Jus' caust ye be small, don' mean ye have to act like a lamb. Even dragons start out small at one point in their life. Look at Banshee," he motioned to his dragon, "Tiny thing like her'll go after anything she wants. Even if it's bigger than she is. Not an ounce o' fear in her."

Hiccup winced, feeling slight pang in his chest at his words. "How?"

Rowin thought about that for a moment, continuing to clean and dress the boy's wounds. "Tell ye what. Since yer da goes off in search o' that nest six ways ta Sunday fer months at time, and ye're oft' left on yer own, save fer Gobber, why don't I teach ye what my mother taught me?" he asked, causing the boy to look up at him in confusion, "I was a wee thing like you when I was but a lad, an' because Mother was a foreigner, I was called a half-breed most o' me days as a lad. Tha's when she taught me how ta fight. Taught me the ways o' her people. I can teach you those very things if ye want?"

Hiccup looked up at him hopefully, "Really?"

"I never lie, lad," Rowin smiled, "I'll teach ye 'ow ta be strong without being strong to begin with."

=x=

Several months passed by before Stoik's return to Berk. Unfortunately, as it always did, his search had been in vain. As the ships, beaten and battered by tooth, claw and fire, drifted into the harbor, his only relief was that there hadn't been any casualties this time around. None of the dragons had come at them from under water this time.

The ships were moored and the warriors began to disembark. It was then that Stoik noticed something that wasn't there that should have been. His son hadn't been there to greet him.

"Oh, no..." He feared the worst because Hiccup had always been the first one on the docks when the ships returned. Nothing ever stopped him, not even Snotlout. The large man lept off the ship and ran straight for his home. "Hiccup!" His roar could be heard clear across the island as he thundered up the hill, and threw open the door to his home. There was no one there in the main room. There was no noise. No clumsy clatter of his son scrambling down to greet him. "SON!" He almost flew up the steps to the boy's room, and nearly tore the door off it's hinges.

A squawk of alarm sounded, but it didn't belong to a human. There, laying on the bed fast asleep, was his son, Rowin's Terrible Terror curled up by his head, and looking at him in what could only be annoyance at having been so rudely awakened from her nap. A huge sigh of relief rushed from his lungs at the sight of his son...that lasted only as long as it took him to notice that Hiccup was covered in bruises, and his hands were wrapped in bandages.

He knelt down and gently shook his son awake, drawing another annoyed squeak from the pint-sized dragon. "Hush, ye devil," he told her, "Hiccup? Wake up, son."

"Mmm," the boy mumbled sleepily, "I don' wanna train t'day, Rowin. Dad's s'posed to be here."

"I _am_ here, lad," Stoik chuckled, never knowing his son to be so lazy. "I'm back."

Hiccup's eyes came open instantly, and he sat bolt up, throwing the unfortunate Terror across the room, "Ooooh, sorry, Banshee!" Hiccup growned, seeing the dragon land in his old cradle, looking at him with a flat expression before puffing a small cloud of smoke in his direction and curling up in the cradle to resume her nap. Hiccup turned to his father and wrapped his tiny arms around his thick neck in a hug, "It's great to have you back Dad!"

Stoik chuckled, hugging him back gently, "Good to be back, but what happened to you?" He growled, "It's not that Snotlout again, is it? I swear if Spitelout doesn't teach that boy- "

"No," Hiccup said, "Well, not all of this is from Snotlout, but I don't think the biggest end is."

"Speak some sense, Hiccup," Stoik said, "If this wasn't Snot, then who was it?"

"Rowin," Hiccup said, "He's been teaching me how to fight."

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><p><em><strong>If you haven't guessed yet, the OC Rowin is of Asian decent. Hence the fact that he has a pet dragon wouldn't be all that strange. This being a prologue and all, we'll be seeing a time skip right to the start of the first movie. Keep in mind that Hiccup's not gonna turn into some puffed-up beefed-up Thor-wanna-be like Snotlout, he'll keep his normal physic until he starts really working with dragons.<strong>_

_**As always, if you like this idea, let me know in a review. State your opinions. Likes, hates (no hard flames please, leave that to the dragons) ideas, anythiing you wish to comment on. Now as for the grammar ticks, those are intentional. That's just me trying to get the accents down. I'm Irish, so mines a little different that Norse.**_

_**Anyway, let's see how this does, shall we? Don't hesitate to review!**_


	2. Chapter 1

_**Now I know I said I was time-skipping to the start of HTTYD, but a reader suggested something. So here we go with a short training montage. WARNING: This chapter contains violence, slight gore, and dragon killing(slaying). **_

**_Chapter One: Blaze_**

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><p>Two years had passed in the village of Berk. Not a lot of things had changed in this time. Stoik the Vast, though, was beginning to wonder if his search would ever lead to anything save for more ships carrying souls to Valhalla. He had lost so many now. Thirty good men and women. None with little ones of their own to carry on their family's name.<p>

Something else had happened as well. During the raids, a new dragon had been identified, and it was the worst possible species. The screeching sound as it flew, the blue flames that shot from its mouth, and the dark hide that hid it during the night. A Night Fury had come to Berk. Many a viking had tried to bring the beast down, but none could catch it.

The only good thing he had noticed happening was with his son. Hiccup, in the two years that he'd been taken under Rowin Iron-Staff's wing, the boy had shown improvement that he had never thought possible from the aging warrior. Rowin was older than he was, well over fifty, and training the boy had to be difficult for such a energetic and curious child.

Hiccup was still not a strong fighter, no, by no means was he strong enough to fight with dragons, but he would get there, of that Stoik was certain. The boy, though, didn't seem to be gaining any muscles from his hard work. He was growing, of course, but he was merely getting taller. He'd grown a good three inches in the last two years. "Still small, though," he muttered to himself, chuckling.

"Well, the lad needs a bit more time ta grow," said Gobber as he took a seat beside his old friend, his favorite mug attached to his left arm. "Rowin's been doin' good with 'im, it's only a matter o' time before he's training to take on dragons."

"Ack, don't go sayin' that, Gobber," Stoik sighed, "T'is no' what I want ta hear right now."

"Alright, alright," Gobber said, "But what are we gonna do about the next raid? Been a while now, so they could come at any time." He tipped his mug back before letting out a belch, "Last go 'round we lost some good people. That Night Fury didn't pull any punches."

"Aye, that's the truth of it," Stoik said, "They've been raiding other villages, and we can't get the Night Fury. Nothin' we can do about it if we can't see the bloody thing coming."

"Then ye're goin' after that nest again?"

"Aye, we've no other choice," Stoik said, rising. "Ye'll keep an eye on Hiccup, won't you?"

"Both eyes," Gobber said, "Like I always do."

=x=

Hiccup was sweating profusely for such a cold time of the year. Early autumn was only the beginning of the long winter that plagued Berk. The only good thing was that the dragons didn't attack as often, and not at all during Snoggletog. It was a short relief in some ways, but it was the worst time of the year as there was little food to go around. Hunting around the small island was dangerous enough. But the cold brought out the worst in the wild animals. Deer were scarce because of the dragons, but boar were always plentiful, yet they were almost as dangerous as dragons.

The monstrous pigs were vicious. Hunting them, like hunting dragons, was considered an honor if someone managed to kill one and bring it to the village as these were beasts that preyed upon anything and everything that was edible. From roots to dead, rotting meat, or fresh meat when they could get it. Even young dragons and their eggs.

Wolves were another problem. They preyed upon the boars.

These were the thoughts that ran through the twelve-year-old's mind as he lay upon the ground looking up at the clouds, and recovering from the training session with Rowin. He was beaten, and battered to the point that his ribs were nothing but a dark mottled bruise. Today's lesson had been brutal. Rowin had begun to teach him to use a staff, as he was now the proper height for a small one. Needless to say that Hiccup was not so good with it yet. Defending one's self from a man that knew how to use his weapon of choice like it was a part of him, for Hiccup, was next to impossible. Hence the bruising on his skin.

"No need ta be disappointed, lad," Rowin commented from where he sat. "Ye've only been doing strength exercises, and motions of the staff. It'll be a while before ye get it down." Banshee squawked from his shoulder as if in agreement, which brought a question to the boy.

"Hey, Rowin, how did you tame Banshee?"

Rowin chuckled, "Funny thing 'bout that." He said, absently reaching up to scratch the little dragon's neck, "I didn't."

"What?" Hiccup perked up, "But she sticks to you like a puppy!"

Rowin laughed heartily at that, "Oh, that she does, but it's no less true." He said, "I met this little rascal when I was your age. I was fishing in the lake about twenty miles inland from here. Mother 'ad packed a basket for m lunch, an' I'd set it down beside me while I fished. Took a while for me to notice that I was no' alone. It was a good day o' fishin', kept catching one after the other. Soon enough, I got hungry and went to grab me basket, an' Bashee scared the life outta me." He laughed as Banshee purred under his touch. "The whole time I'd been fishin' she'd been gobbling down me lunch like a starvin' wolf. Every last bit o' it was gone. And I had meself one fat, happy Terror."

"So what happened then?" Hiccup asked.

"Tried to shoo her off," Rowin shrugged, "But she wouldn't go. I didn't 'ave anything but a small dagger on me, but the way she was acting...ah, I couldn't kill the little runt. So she followed me 'ome and nearly gave me mum fits. Never caused us trouble, though. O' course, Da did no' take to her verra well." He chuckled, "See, that's why she don't like many folks around here. Da was a viking, but me and Mum were different. An' since I was small, it was nice ta 'ave a friend, even if she was a little dragon."

An idea formed in Hiccup's head, "You think the bigger one's would- "

"Stop right there, lad," Rowin said, "Before you go out lookin' for some Gronkle, or Nadder to cuddle, you'd best be thinkin' on that a little more. Believe me when I say," he reached down, and pulled up his tunic up above his chest, "I've tried and failed." Hiccup was shocked. The man had claw marks all over him, and many of them looked like they should have killed him!

"What made those?" Hiccup asked.

"Nightmare," he said, letting his tunic drop, "Thought I'd be clever and try me hand at taming a big one...that was a mistake. Soon as I got within hand's reach, he was on me like stink on a boar. Lucky I wasn't killed after that. That was the last time I used a sword as well." He pulled back the sleeve on his right arm, revealing yet more scarring. "Bloody brute nearly mangled me. Cause of this, I can't lift a sword anymore, so I make do with a light bo with iron capping off each end."

Hiccup looked disappointed. He had hoped that taming a larger dragon could help the village somehow. But if a Monstrous Nightmare had turned on Rowin when he was just within arm's reach...

"Promise me ye'll never try what I did, Hiccup," Rowin sighed, seeing the look in the boy's eyes.

Hiccup nodded, and got up, "I promise." With that, the boy trudged towards his home.

=|One Year Later|=

Stoik watched as Rowin and his son squared off in mild amusement. Rowin may not have been as big as most vikings, but he was still a big man, and the sight of him facing down the five foot boy was almost funny if Stoik hadn't felt a pang of worry over the boy's safety.

Rowin struck first, twirling the staff and whipping around to strike at the boy's side. Hiccup, with some difficulty, blocked the strike with his own staff, jarring his hands. "Good," Rowin commented, "But still not sturdy enough, lad. If I 'ad wanted to, that staff would be splinters right now."

Hiccup sighed, "I'll try harder."

Rowin sighed and set the butt of his staff on the ground, "The problem is no' that ye're not tryin' 'ard enough, t'is that ye think too much about what ye need ta do." He said, to which Stoik nodded in agreement.

"He's right, son, thinking only makes you slow in battle," Stoik said, "If you have to think about what you'll do next, then you'll only be on the defensive, and not get the chance to go on the attack."

"Aye, and ye'll eventually get tired, and sloppy," Rowin said, "A sloppy fighter is a dead fighter."

"Sorry."

Rowin reached out with his staff and tapped the boy on the head, "Don' be sorry, lad, ye'll get there. Now, why don' we start again?"

Hiccup nodded and got back into his stance. This time he struck first, spinning around as he'd seen Rowin do before. Rowin blocked him easily before he spun again, the smaller staff coming around quickly only to be stopped mere inches away from Rowin's left knee. Rowin shoved the boy away with a powerful thrust from the staff, nearly knocking to the ground.

"Better," both men smiled. "Much better."

=x=

"Astrid," Ruffnut said loudly, "Hey, Astrid!"

"What is it now, Ruff?" The blonde girl asked, sighing. "Is Tuff stuck in the well again?"

"Nah, that was this morning," Ruffnut laughed, "I was just wonderin' if you'd seen Hiccup lately?"

"No, why?" Astrid asked. Truth be told, she hadn't seen the smaller boy around the village in quite a while, unless he was passing by her house to head home. She hardly paid any attention to him, unless Snotlout was bullying him, then she'd do her best not to intervene.

Ruffnut smirked, "You oughtta know that he's lookin' a little bit less hiccupish."

"So he's finally putting some meat on those twigs he calls bones?" Astrid giggled before flipping her braid, "Good for him, maybe Snotlout'll leave him alone."

"Nope, not a chance," Ruff said, giggling in turn, "He's just tryin' to impress you."

Astrid scoffed, "If he wants to impress me, then he'd better start acting like less of a troll and more like a viking!" She huffed and started toward the docks where most of the villagers were helping repair the ships for another go at the nest. "Not that it matters, I'd rather marry a troll than that idiot."

Ruffnut tailed after her, still grinning, "You might get your wish. Stoik's had his eye on you for his son, you know?"

"Ha, not bloody likely!" Astrid laughed again, "He may be the chief's son, but he's the last one I'd - "

"GET BACK HERE, YE LITTLE RUNT!"

Astrid and Ruffnut stopped at the enraged shout, turning to see what the commotion was, half-expecting either Snotlout or Tuffnut to be running from Mildew again for upsetting his sheep, but instead...

"HICCUP!" Rowin roared.

"It was a joke!" Yelled Hiccup, just a few feet in front of the man. Rowin was after him with his staff while the boy tried to run and laugh at the same time. A hard thing to do when a Terrible Terror was buzzing him from above.

"You call that a joke?!" Rowin yelled, aiming a swipe at him, "I nearly got my head yanked off!"

"Not my fault you got too close to the trigger!" Hiccup shouted, trying to avoid Banshee. "I didn't know the bolas were gonna do that!"

Astrid almost laughed when the pair barreled down to the harbor, the larger man trailing a set of bolas from his neck.

"See what I mean?" Ruffnut grinned, "He's never been as fast as that! And Rowin's one of the fastest runners we have."

"Rowin is getting old," Astrid pointed out, taking note of the grey hairs in his braid, though she admitted that her fellow blonde was right. Not so long ago, Hiccup could barely out run Fishlegs, but not she could see that he was a match for Snotlout, which pleased her. He could get away easier if he wanted to. Then she noticed something else as Rowin caught up and started roughing the boy up. "Have his shoulders always been that broad?"

=|Yet Another Year Later|=

"Hiccup, stop messin' about with that contraption and help with this for a moment," Gobber said, while trying to lift a larg hunk of scrap metal into the smelter. Hiccup, now a healthy fourteen-year-old, while still scrawny compared to the others of his age group, was quick to help Gobber lift the metal into the molten vat with ease. Gobber sighed in relief, "Thanks, laddie, almost thought I was gonna have to break the thing apart!"

Hiccup smiled and dusted off his hands, "No problem, Gobber."

Gobber went to work shoveling coal into the furnace, "How're those lessons of your's with Rowin doing?"

Hiccup shrugged as he went back to his invention, "Better, but Rowin's been feeling his age lately..." he sighed as he screwed in a small plate, "I'm worried about him."

"Ah, he's no spring chicken anymore, that's for sure," Gobber said, "But he's had a good run of it. Ye have to understand, though, he's...well, he's close to sixty I'd image?"

"Fiftty-six," Hiccup said, attaching his invention to a pole with small rings running along it, "Still, he doesn't get around as well as he used to. I mean just yesterday I actually landed a hit on him. Me! Landing a solid punch on my teacher!"

Gobber just laughed, "That's not age, lad, that's improvement! You've been learning from him for a good four years now, so it's just common sense that ye've seen some improvement!"

"Yeah, but I'm still not...not..." he gestured to himself, then at Gobber, "Not like the rest of you! I'm still a hiccup!"

"You're like Rowin," Gobber told him as he hobbled over to the forge, "Ye'll never be as big as Stoik, or even Spitelout, but look at Rowin. He's just as good a warrior as any of us, or he used to be. It's like I was tellin' yer da, ye'll get there with a little time." he looked over at the boy, "What's that yer workin' on anyway?"

"Something to make fishing easier," Hiccup smiled, holding up the rod, "I attached this spool to the rod that uses a crank to pull in the string when once you've thrown it out with a baited hook."

"An' those little rings?" Gobber asked, eyeing the tool.

"Too keep the string on the rod," Hiccup explained, "What do you think?"

Gobber examined the fishing tool, "No' bad, Hiccup, not bad at all. I know a few that would appreciate somethin' like this."

"You think so?"

"Know so," Gobber grinned, "Ye tried it out ye - " Suddenly the warning horns sounded. "In broad daylight?!"

"Sounds like it!" Hiccup yelped and ran for his staff, but Gobber was having none of that, and hooked him by his shirt collar, "Gobber, what - "

"No, ye don't," Gobber plopped him down, "I'll be needin' ye here if that's really a dragon raid a comin'!"

"But I need to get out there!" Hiccup argued.

"Ye're not ready!" Gobber snapped, "Let the other's handle - "

CRASH

From outside there came screaming and shouting as the roof of the workshop shuddered with a monstrous thud as something landed on top. Gobber was motioning for Hiccup to keep quiet and gesturing wildly to a spear. Hiccup was quick to find two spears that were long enough to do the job, tossing one to Gobber's good hand. The two stood side by side, one looking at the other as they held their spears at the ready. Gobber gave him a nod, and both thrust the spears through the roof. Immediately there was monstrous roar that shook the foundations of the shop.

The spears were wrenched out of their hands as the dragon took wing from the shop. Hiccup was thrown to the ground by the force of of the pull. He looked up at Gobber, "Still think I'd be better off here?"

"Don' be an arse about it," Gobber said, attaching his axe to his arm, "C'mon, lad, time for a crash course in dragon slaying!"

Hiccup made a grab for a small hatchet that fit his hand, and followed Gobber outside...into madness. The village was in flames. Men and women were running about screaming and shouting orders to others as they tried to quell the flames, and defend themselves from the surprise attack. Hopping along the rooftops were Deadly Nadders and large Snafflefangs.

All of them were after the livestock.

"This is bad!" Hiccup yelped, "This late in the year is really bad for raiding!"

"Hiccup, less talking more fighting!" Gobber roared and crashed toward the nearest dragon he could lay his ax into. The unlucky Zippleback never saw him coming as he buried the blade into the base its spine where both necks joined the main body.

Hiccup was scared, though, far too scared to move. Then, when he heard a thunderous roar above, looking up, the dragon descended on him. It was the one that had landed on the roof, still having the pikes stuck in it underside, but no where near a vital spot, a Monstrous Nightmare landed in front of him and roared. Snapping its jaws at the boy. Hiccup reacted by blindly swinging his hatchet, knocking into the beast's jaw spraying a small gout of blood from the beast.

It howled in rage and lunged at him. Hiccup rolled out of the way just in the nick of time as the jaws snapped closed just where he'd been standing moments before. He brought the hatchet up, and then down once more in a wide arc that missed the creature's wing bone, instead hitting the membrane, tearing the precious wing. Another enraged roar, and the dragon rounded on him, its tail whirling around before he could react, and slamming into him.

Hiccup was thrown across the the village and crashed into one of the houses dotting the land. He fell to the ground, injured but alive...for the moment he added as an after thought. The dragon wasn't through with him yet. The Nightmare was marching toward him, limping on it's injured wing. Flames danced within its maw as it prepared to blast him.

He wanted to run, to get away, but his body was flattened from the blow and shock of the tail. With shaking hands, he reached for his hatchet that had fallen to the ground, as little as it would do against the sixty foot dragon, but the idea that he'd die with a weapon in his hands made him feel slightly better...

As the dragon opened it's mouth, a shout rang out across the village and a familiar whistling screeched through the air as Rowin's famous iron staff cracked across the face of the dragon, stunning it. "Hiccup!" The teen found himself lifted off the ground and tucked under his arm before he really knew what was happening.

There was another screech, this one that of a dragon, and more whistling came. Rowin shuddered as the boy heard the dull _schick _of blades meeting flesh and his friend stumbled, "Gods be damned!"

"Rowin?" Hiccup said, coming back to himself, "What's going on?!"

"Nadder spines," Rowin growled out, and Hiccup's eyes widened. Nadder spines were full of poison!

"We need to get to the elder!" Hiccup started struggling out of the man's grasp, surprisingly easy. "She might be able to - "

"Nay, lad," Rowin groaned, "I'm done fer. Get out o' here before that Nightmare comes - "

GROAR!

It was too late. The Nightmare had recovered.

"Hiccup, run!" Rowin growled.

"Not a chance, old man," Hiccup snapped, hefting his hatchet. "I'm not gonna let that thing eat you!"

"Fool of a boy!" Rowin rose stiffly and grabbed the boy's hatchet from him, shoving him to the ground just as the dragon lept. Rowin, slowed by the Nadder venom, wasn't fast enough to avoid the beast's jaws as the came down on his left arm. Rowin latched onto the beast, using his free arm to press the dragon to the ground while trying to keep hold of the weapon.

"S-someone help!" Hiccup yelled at the sight of his mentor being mangled while fighting. Helpless to do anything else. His shout had not gone unheard. Gobber was still nearby having only finished off the Zippleback.

"Beards of Thor!" The smith yelled as he saw the fight, "Stoik! Stoik, get yar arse over here!"

By now the dragon was fed up with its intended meal trying to fight back, and forced it flame through its scale and cloaked itself in fire. Rowin roared in pain and raised the hatchet once more. He brought the blade down between the dragon's horns where the shaft shattered and the blade stayed put. The Nightmare shrieked in pain and thrashed, throwing Rowin away from it, his arm gone.

In its death throes, the Nightmares flames sputtered and died as the dragon fell to the ground, the metal of the blade and angry red from the blaze.

Hiccup scrambled to his feet the moment the dragon was dead, and rushed to Rowin's side. Stoik called out to his son, but he didn't hear him. Rowin was still conscious as the boy skidded down on his knees, offering him a smile, "Lad, ye did well there for a while."

"Don't talk," Hiccup told him, racking his brain about trying to save him, "We'll get you to Gothi, and she'll - "

"Nay," Rowin sighed, "T'is my time." He sighed again, giving the boy a blind look, his eyes glazed over, "I've asked a lot o' ye these last four years, lad, but...I would ask one last thing."

"Anything," Hiccup said, tears burning his eyes.

He raised his remaining hand, and tapped the boy in the chest over his heart, "Don't lose this...never let yerself slip away...stay the boy...that I grew to love as a son..."

As Stoik came upon them, Rowin's hand fell back to the ground, his eyes staring up at the sky as the last remaining dragons fled. "Oh, no." He strode forward slowly before kneeling beside his son, and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hiccup, are you alright?"

"No," Hiccup's voice quavered, "I'm not...vikings aren't supposed to cry...but I - "

"It's okay," Stoik told him and wrapped his arm around him, "No one's goin' to say a thing."

=x=

Stoik looked out at the ship that now carried the body of a friend, and arrow knocked on his bow. "May the Valkyries welcome you and lead you through Odin's great battle field. May they sing your name with love and fury so that we may hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you have taken your rightful place at the table of kings. For a great man has fallen, a warrior, a teacher, and a friend." He drew the arrow back, the flames searing his knuckles, and fired. The arrow sailed high into the air in a wide arc before beginning its descent toward the ship.

Withing moments, the ship was ablaze.

The chief turned to the people standing behind him, his son the first one his eyes landed on. "Today, I have failed you as a chieftain." He said, addressing them all, "A man has died, giving his life for the people of this village. He saved the life of my son, who fought valiantly against the dragon that killed him. No shame should be placed." This he directed toward Hiccup, the boy trying desperately to hold in his tears, "All that should be done now, is mourning. We have lost one of the finest warriors this village has ever seen, aged as he was, he fought the most formidable dragon we know of, and took it with him in death.

"I am proud to call him friend and brother," he continued, "And I can only hope that his teachings will live on in my son." He sighed, "Go now to your homes. Bind your wounds and repair the damage. For there is no rest for us. The dragons have never attacked in daylight until today, now we must keep a constant vigil!"

With that the crowd dispersed. Hiccup turned to leave, but felt a gentle hand on his arm, turning him around. Astrid was there, looking at him with something akin to pity. "He was a good man." Was the only thing she said.

Hiccup nodded, hearing the faint keening of a Terrible Terror as she flew off into the forest forever. "Yeah," Hiccup gave her a small smile, "He still is."

* * *

><p><em><strong>And so Hiccup's training at the hands of Rowin ends in tragedy, but all is not lost as Stoik explained, for his teachings live on.<strong>_

_**I hope this chapter wasn't too long or boring, but my OC's end was something I had been planing to mention in passing into the HTTYD bit, but this suggested chapter worked out in favor of his passing on, viking-style. **_

_**Well, as I've said, please leave a review on your likes and hates for the chapter, ideas, criticism etc.**_


	3. Chapter 2

_**2: Fateful Encounter**_

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><p>Daily life in Berk had been on edge for the longest time after the day time attack of the dragons. Yet it was the first, and last time they came during the day. In the time between, Hiccup had mourned the loss of his friend, almost reverting back to his former self. But that couldn't happen. His hands were too used to the familiar weight of his staff, and the movements Rowin had put him through each day for the four years. If he didn't move through them, his hands would twitch until he did.<p>

In his fifteenth year, Hiccup...was still a hiccup, but by no means was he as weak as he used to be. Though he had not the bulky muscles of his people, he was lean and athletic. The muscles in his body had grown, and tightened into hardened bands from his hours spent in the forge.

Snotlout no longer teased him as much as he used to. He hadn't had a beating in over a year since the attack. Hiccup figured this was out of pity for losing a friend, but in truth, Snotlout was worried that Hiccup might fight back. Still nowhere near the bigger teen's stature, Hiccup was just as tall, and could easily lift sword and shield if he wanted to.

But Hiccup was more of an inventor than a fighter.

"Are ye still working on that bloody contraption?" Gobber asked as Hiccup was making a few adjustments to his bola launcher, "Scratch that, do ye even know if it works?"

"Of course it works," Hiccup laughed, right before the launcher sprang to life and shot the bolas over Gobber's head, "Uh...minor calibration issue..."

Gobber growled, and stalked over to him, "Hiccup, this is why Stoick never lets you fight during a raid! All you've got on your mind nowadays are those quirky inventions of yours!"

"Can you blame me for wanting to make it easier to bring a dragon down?" Hiccup asked, "How many did we lose last time?"

"Five," Gobber grumbled, "But that's not the point; you're afraid to get close to one of those brutes after what happened to - "

"That's not it!" The teen snapped, glaring, "I don't wanna see anyone die like that again! If I can get this and the ballista working, then we've got better tools to kill dragons!"

"An over-sized crossbow and a bola thrower that doesn't work," Gobber clapped sarcastically, "We're well on our way to winning this little fracas!"

"Hey, the crossbow worked," Hiccup snapped, "Dad even thought it was a good idea!"

"For hunting, maybe," Gobber argued as he started pounding on a sword he'd been working on, "But that bigger version looks like it'd take far too much time to reload."

Hiccup nodded in the direction of said machine, "For someone like me? Yeah, it'd take two of me. But for someone Dad's size it'd only take a minute, or less."

Gobber just sighed and went back to work. Hiccup had his heart in the right place in the old smith's mind, but his mind tended to wander. For the last year he'd been obsessed with getting a shot at dragon training, but Stoick was adamant about him not being ready. Gobber could see it clear as day; the boy wanted to impress the man, well aware that his lack in size was still a blemish on the Haddock house.

True Hiccup was strong, but a hiccup in the eyes of viking society was still a hiccup. The fact that he hadn't been ostracized more than he had been was more to the fact that he was quite possibly the finest smith the village had ever seen since Gobber himself took to the forge. In more ways, Gobber was willing to admit that Hiccup had already surpassed him. His blades were the best he'd ever seen, and his inventions (some of them) had proven to be beneficial to the village. His crossbow had made hunting easier for many that lacked the ability to pull a re-curved bow to full draw, and his fishing pole idea made land fishing much easier...now his ballista and launcher?

Gobber could see merit in the giant crossbow, but the launcher just seemed too awkward.

Suddenly Hiccup slapped the launcher together with a wide grin, "There! It's done!"

"Here we go," Gobber muttered not a moment too soon as the launcher sprang back open, one part smacking the unfortunate teen in the face while the bola was through at - "Hit the deck!"

Gobber dove to the ground as the the missile passed over him, clocking and unfortunate passer. Hiccup groaned as he palmed his stinging cheek. "Oooow."

"Ye were saying?" Gobber smirked from his position on the ground.

"Oh...shut up..." Hiccupe whined before toppling over.

"And tha's lunch," Gobber laughed. "Go 'head and take the rest of the day off. Not much for me left to do 'cept ta sharpen Astrid's ax -"

"I'll do that!" Hiccup shot up from the ground and walked over to the grind stone. Gobber just chuckled.

"Fancy 'er do ye?"

"You wouldn't?" The boy grumbled as he set to work. "Not like it's gonna do any good. She barely speaks to anyone unless she has to. Then it's all business."

Gobber nodded to this, "Ah, tha's true. But ye have to admit, she at least does no' go for that Lout lad. Nor does she show interest in the others...then again, s'pose she could prefer ot'er women?"

Hiccup scoffed, "Yeah, right, and I'm Big-Boobied Bertha!" Both started cackling at the remark about the Bog-Burglar leader. Last time she had paid the village a visit, Snotlout had nearly caused an all out war when he made a lewd comment in front of her daughter, who was not nearly as well endowed as her mother. Needless to say, the young Jorgenson heir was walking on thin ice for a time with the woman.

Though, Hiccup had to wonder. Astrid had spent a large amount of time with the shield maiden during her stay, mostly talking, and more talking then the young Haddock had ever seen her doing. But it was a known fact that she admired female warriors who had done great deeds. And the Bog-Burglar woman was one of the only female leaders among vikings as well as being a leader among warrior women.

In Hiccups point of view, it was only natural for Astrid to look up to Bertha, after all, what wasn't there to..._admire_ about that sort of woman?

Still laughing, Gobber moved toward the door, "Well, lad, after ye've done tha' go on home and rest up. Liable to be a raid anytime this month. Gettin' close to the cold season, and ye know they always get nastier around then before they stop for the season."

"I know, Gob, I know," Hiccup said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

=x=

Astrid was many things, but warm and affectionate was not one of them. As much as she wanted to be, she hadn't had much schooling in such things as being a welcoming person. Though, at the moment, that was a fairly good thing. "C'mon, Babe, you know you want to." Snoutlout boasted while flexing his muscles as if she was going to reach out and touch them. In point of fact she wished she had her axe, at least then she could...no she couldn't do that. Maiming an ally was a bad thing...wasn't it?

"Oh, yeah, check out this scar I got during the last dragon raid!" Snotlout said, rolling down his armband, "One of those Terrible Terrors latched on and nearly ripped my hand off!"

_Wish it'd ripped his face off, _the blonde thought coldly. "Really?" She said sarcastically, "Did you kill it?"

"Um...no...I didn't, but I - "

"Save it," she said, and strode ahead of him, "Go bug Ruffnut, or something. I have to go pick up my axe from Gobber's."

"Want me to carry it for you?" Snotlout asked, still preening, "I'm sure you'd like to save the energy by letting a big strong guy like me take it for you?"

Astrid rounded on him, "What? You don't think I can do that on my own?!"

"No, no!" Snotlout back pedaled, "I was just - "

"Go to Hel's icy realm you troll!" She whipped around and stomped off, her braid swinging like an angry dragon's tail, leaving a stunned Snotlout in her wake, wishing she had something to hit. Then she heard the pounding of feet.

"Wait up!"

Wish granted. Astrid spun around and clocked the running Jorgenson so hard that he flipped head over heels backwards onto his head, his helmet catching on his foot as it fell, making for quite the sight for the rest of the villagers that were accustomed to this routine. Smiling to herself, Astrid turned back toward the forge, pleased with her work.

Coming upon the forge, she heard the unmistakable sound of steel against stone. Was her weapon still being worked on? She peeked inside to see Hiccup...working on _her_ axe! "Hey!"

He didn't seem to hear her, focused as he was on his task. She noticed that he was paying very close attention to the blades of the axe, making sure to get all the chips and gouges out of it, not paying any attention to the sparks flying off and landing on his arms, and burning holes through his thin tunic sleeves. Was _this_ really the boy that always chased after them whenever there was a raid? The boy that always seemed to be tripping over his own feet? No...The Hiccup she had known was smaller, thinner than this person in front of her.

True, he would never have the size of one of their warriors, but he had muscle under his tunic that was plainly visible. Not like the rippling, bulging muscles of Snotlout, but a lean, almost whip-like mass that sacrificed strength for speed, yet he still have strength enough to lift her battle-axe.

It was obvious after her first attempt that he was too focused on work to notice her, so Astrid resigned herself to waiting. So, chin in hand, she sat and waited at the table near the door.

Then she took notice that the blade of her axe looked thicker than it had, having been worn down after so much grinding. Had he added metal to the blade?

Finally, after what seemed like hours to her, he stopped, testing the blade with the pad of his thumb. "Good, not one gauge left." He muttered to himself before rising.

"Good," Astrid said, startling him.

"Astrid?!" Hiccup nearly dropped the axe.

"Who else?" She smiled, genuinely smiled, not the cocky smirk she had during a fight, or a fake smile put on for those that spoke to her, but a true, happy smile. No one had managed to make her do that before, except for a bit of foolishness on Hiccup's part. This being one of those times. The wide-eyed innocent look on his face when she startled him was...cute. Something that shouldn't be on the face of a warrior. Warriors were supposed to be ugly and scarred, and, if they were lucky enough, moderately handsome...but what she was stuck with were Snotlout, Fishlegs, Tuffnut, and...Hiccup.

"Uh-I-uh." Astrid almost laughed at him. No one ever stammered around her unless they were expecting a smack or two, but Hiccup was just plain nervous around her. As he should be, she thought proudly. She was a shield maiden, beloved by Odin and destined to become a Valkyrie and carry the souls of the fallen to the gates of Valhalla. Only the greatest female warriors were worthy of that honor.

"Can I have my axe back?" She asked, deciding not to tease him.

"Uh, yeah, sure! I was just - " Hiccup started before she strode forward and took the axe from him gently.

"Relax," she told him with a small smile still playing at her lips, "I was watching you for a little while."

"You were?" He asked, "Why didn't you say anything?"

Astrid giggled, _Gods, what's wrong with me?! _"I did, you were just too focused to hear me!"

Hiccup had a reddish tint to his cheeks when she laughed, "Heh, next time just throw something at me. I don't wanna be rude to one of our best customers."

Astrid shrugged, "It was no problem." She said, "Not like I have any one to go home to. 'Cept an empty hold, and a cold hearth."

"Oh...sorry..." Hiccup mentally kicked himself for forgetting that Astrid didn't have any family left on the island after her uncle Fin passed on from his bout with a Flightmare.

Again she shrugged, "Don't be, I like the quiet...was there something wrong with the blade?"

"No, it was just worn down too much so I just melted, and pounded in an ingot worth of steel to reinforce the blade." Hiccup said, proving her earlier observations. "What were you using it on? A tree?"

"Well, yes," she said, "I don't have a wood axe, so I - "

"The blade is all wrong for chopping wood," Hiccup chided, "The blade is thin, and liable to break if you hit the trunk wrong. I'll make a wood axe for you. No sense ruining your battle axe or risk losing a limb because it breaks."

The girl was a little surprised that he had the gall to lecture her about her axe. But then...he did have a point. Once she's seen her father using a battle axe to cut wood, and the blade cracked, and shot off toward his foot, narrowly missing him. Then there was the fact that the shaft was so thin, unlike a wood cutter's axe, which was thick, like a club.

Again, he was awarded her smile, "That's kind of you, but I can't pay you for it for a while until - "

"It's a gift," Hiccup said, holding up his hand, "You're Berk's best warrior, and it'd be bad if something happened to you."

She felt her cheeks heat for a moment. Gift? No one gave her gifts. Not for a long time! "Um..what do I owe you for my axe?"

"Gobber said it was two coppers, or a silver if you could get one, but to not be in any hurry about it." Hiccup smiled, knowing Gobber wouldn't take a shilling from anyone that couldn't give it.

"Right." She started backing out of the forge, "I'll be going then...goodnight."

"Careful out there," Hiccup called out to her as she left, "Gobber's expecting a raid anytime, now!" A small giggle escaped the girl as she left. No one ever told her to be careful either.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Not much happening in this chapter, but you can probably guess what's coming next! Hope you liked the little one on one with Hiccup and Astrid, and as to the reason why I made Astrid an orphan? Well I couldn't find anything about her parents, except her uncle Fin :P<strong>_

_**Enjoy! And please review if you like it!**_


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